


Can I Not Grasp Them with a Tighter Clasp?

by HeroineofTime



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: (or at least an attempt thereof), Angst, Dark, Gen, Ghost Cores (Danny Phantom), Ghost Obsessions, Ghost instincts, Horror, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Protection obsession, Psychological Horror, Tragedy, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroineofTime/pseuds/HeroineofTime
Summary: Danny squirms. It’s not something he likes to think about. Ghosts have obsessions. But… he didn’t thinkhehad an obsession.He’s human. He isn’t like other ghosts. He doesn’t have an obsession.(Or: there's a reason that the Fentons think ghost obsessions are dangerous. Danny might be more of a ghost than he wants to admit.)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 192
Collections: Danny Phantom Server Prompt (Nightmares)





	1. Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> For [Ozone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniura/pseuds/aniura) and [Hazama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazama_d20/pseuds/Hazama_d20)'s Fanfic Challenge with the prompt "Nightmares".

As another gust of wind sweeps the area, everyone shivers.

It is one of the windiest days Amity Park had seen in quite a while. Combined with the early winter weather that they are having, it’s biting. Likely no one would be out at all if they had a choice. Many people are huddled into themselves, hiding their hands in their jacket pockets and shrugging until their collars cover their ears.

Danny does the same, though not for the same reason.

He’s standing in the back, away from the crowd. It’s mostly people he doesn’t recognize, although he spots a few familiar faces. Dash Baxter, looking solemn. Paulina Sanchez, her eyes red-rimmed and makeup uncharacteristically messy. A few Guys in White agents are there, probably just because of the ghost-involvement, as stoic as ever.

These people have dared to brave the cold, just as Danny has—even though “braving” it probably isn’t really the right term for him, considering he hardly even feels it—in memory of one person.

Another blast of chilled air strikes the group, ruffling the black clothing that everyone is wearing. It tears the words from the man up at the podium. It’s probably better for him, really; he’s choking down sobs between words.

Danny’s glad too. This way, he doesn’t have to hear the words that he does not want to hear.

 _A loving sister… caring friend… beloved daughter_ … _a tragic accident…_

His grip on his arms tightens.

It _was_ a tragic accident, as everyone was saying. The town was surprisingly understanding, and the media didn’t even try to pin the blame on anyone other than the true murderer. It should probably be a relief for Danny.

“Star didn’t deserve to have her life cut so short by such a despicable monster.” The wind dies down just long enough for the man to finish his speech with a wavering voice. “But now… now she stands as a reminder for us all. It’s so easy to forget how mortal our loved ones really are. Keep them close. And… always remember the danger that ghosts really pose to this town. They took my daughter.” The man buries his face in his hands. “My beautiful girl…”

The man steps away from the podium. Danny watches as members of the crowd step forward, wrapping an arm around him in comfort as he retreats into the throng of mourners.

Silently, invisible even without using his powers, Danny slips away.

xXx

At first, the nightly patrol with Sam and Tucker goes more or less as usual. Things _are_ , admittedly, kind of quiet. A lot of the ghosts seem to be aware that with the previous week’s tragedy, ghost hunters are on high alert. The public is _demanding_ more protection from spectral entities now that ghosts have truly proven how dangerous they can be. Guys in White operatives are flooding the town. Honestly, it’s all Danny can do to stay away from them himself.

Despite that, some of his regulars still appear. Danny and his friends deal with some smaller ghosts, ectopi or other ghost animals that don’t really have the intelligence to stay away. And of _course_ he encounters the Box Ghost.

At one point, however, Danny’s ghost sense leads him and his friends to the park. At first it seems surprisingly populated for the hour. But then they get closer… and they realize something strange.

_No one is moving._

It’s an eerie scene: children and adults, women and men alike, all collapsed in various positions around the park. Two kids, no older than eight, are draped over the swings on the playground. One is slouched forward and the other has her head on the ground, back still on the swing, leaving her at an awkward angle. A little boy nearby is slumped on the stairs leading up to the slide. Two adults lean on each other at the nearby bench, eyes closed. Other people are strewn much the same way all over—laying on the grass, by the bathrooms, near the gate at the entrance…

One woman in particular catches Danny’s eye. She’s on the sidewalk close to them, dressed in jogger’s clothes, but she’s laying face down on the ground.

Danny freezes. His breath quickens. He can’t move; blood and ectoplasm are roaring in his ears, and he sways, feeling like _he_ might collapse too, just like all the other people nearby. That woman, the way she’s completely limp, still and unmoving, mouth open, looks way too much like…

“They’re still breathing,” Sam murmurs, and he only barely catches it over the cacophony of his own thoughts. He blinks and realizes that yes, Sam’s right. The telltale movement of the woman’s chest proves that she’s breathing. She’s not dead. He feels an overwhelming surge of relief that he pushes down angrily, because sure, she’s not dead, but there’s still clearly something _wrong_.

“What are they doing? Sleeping?” Tucker scoffs.

Sam trudges over to the nearest person, a man holding a leash attached to a small terrier dog that is also curled up on the ground, head resting peacefully on its paws. She pokes him in the side, but he does not react. She then grabs his shoulder and shakes him roughly. Still no response.

“They are not merely sleeping,” says a deep, smooth voice behind them. “They are dreaming.”

All three of them spin around. Danny has an ecto-blast glowing in his hand, and Sam and Tucker have withdrawn and aimed their ecto-guns with skill that suggests substantial experience.

It’s Nocturn. The ghost floats at the park entrance, looking serene. Danny hasn’t seen him since their last incident, where he forced the whole town into an unending sleep. Danny scowls. Nocturn had been difficult to defeat, and he somehow doubts the ghost has conveniently gotten any weaker.

“Let them go, Nocturn,” Danny says confidently.

“Why?” the starlit ghost counters, gesturing toward the people in the park. “They are not hurt and completely free from the normal worries of their life.”

“Yeah, but you’re feeding off of them! You only grow more powerful when they’re asleep.”

“Is that not what all ghosts do?” Nocturn asks. “Surely you do much of the same, ghost child.”

Danny is surprised by that accusation. He opens his mouth to respond… but he’s at a loss for words. Sam steps in. “Danny would never do something like this!” Sam declares hotly.

“But a ghost cannot exist without an obsession. Even a half-ghost.”

“Danny _helps_ people,” Sam growls. “Even if he has an obsession, it’s obviously a good one!”

Danny squirms. It’s not something he likes to think about. Ghosts have obsessions. That was a huge part of his parents’ research, and it had been confirmed hundreds of times by his enemies. But… he didn’t think _he_ had an obsession. His friends had tried to discuss it before, but he always got extremely uncomfortable whenever the topic was brought up, so they usually dropped it.

He’s human. He isn’t like other ghosts. He doesn’t have an obsession.

Nocturn tilts his head, considering. “My obsession, in its purest form, does not harm anyone. It brings them escape from the real world with pleasant fantasies. I believe _I’m_ helping them.”

Danny shakes his head. This conversation is going nowhere. “Being put into an endless sleep doesn’t help anyone,” he says. “Now let them _go_ , or else.”

Nocturn chooses else.

He disappears in a swirl of stars, fading into the night like he’s a part of it. Tucker immediately pulls out the Fenton Finder. “To your 2 o’clock, Danny,” he calls.

Danny wastes no time in tossing an ecto-blast at the place Tucker specifies. Sure enough, it hits its invisible mark, and Nocturn grunts as the energy sears through his shoulder. Danny shoots a thankful smile to his friend.

The ghost turns its red gaze upon them and barely avoids another blast, this time sent by Sam’s wrist ray. Danny tries to rush forward and freeze him, but the ghost manages to dodge again, fading in and out of visibility like a twinkling star and leaving patches of ice all over the grass.

Nocturn reaches Tucker. He extends his long, cloak-like arms, and with a bout of apparent intangibility, his hand goes straight through Tucker’s head. Tucker collapses.

Something in Danny _snaps._

With a wordless battle cry, he dives at Nocturn, hitting him dead-on with an ecto-blast. Nocturn is flung surprisingly far, crashing into the gate on the other side of the park. His body almost hits a sleeping old lady, but Danny hardly notices. His core is thrumming, burning with loose power as he approaches his downed foe.

As Nocturn collects himself, he looks up and stares at Danny, who is glowering, eyes burning with fury.

The ghost merely smiles.

“Ah,” he says. “So that’s what it is.”

And suddenly he’s gone.

Danny’s thrown off by his departure; unused energy that he’d subconsciously been gathering around his body fizzles out and dies with no target. He blinks, feeling the emotion that had been building up draining from him oddly. He feels… empty, almost. Unfulfilled. He finds himself glancing around, hoping that Nocturn is nearby so that he can finish the fight. He _desperately_ wants to.

Instead, he notices the park’s occupants stirring, making noises of confusion or grunts of discomfort as they apparently come to. His eyes land on Tucker, and he instantly forgets about Nocturn.

“Tucker!” he cries, heading to his friend’s side where Sam is already kneeling, helping the boy sit up as he groans. “Tucker, are you okay?”

Tucker’s eyes flutter open, and he breathes in deeply. “Y-Yeah… what hit me?”

“Nocturn got you,” Sam says before Danny can. “But I think he just put you to sleep. Seems like he let you go though, along with everyone else in the park. No idea why.”

Tucker frowns, finally getting up on his own and struggling to his feet. He gazes around the park as well, noting everyone else is in much the same condition as he is. “He just… left? For no reason?”

“Well, Danny hit him pretty hard,” Sam says, smiling at the halfa. “Maybe he was scared?”

“He didn’t look scared,” Danny mumbles. Despite the threat being gone, there’s a part of him that is still urging him to go and hunt down Nocturn, a part that hasn’t quite calmed down from the adrenaline rush of the fight. He pushes it away. “I just hope he’s not planning something worse.”

They hear shouts, and the trio turn to look at the children on the playground, who have spotted Phantom. The adults notice them pointing and jumping in delight and are now staring at Danny in open shock.

“We should probably head out now,” Sam says softly. “Before any crazy fans try to ask for an autograph or something. Besides, we need to check the town to make sure Nocturn is actually gone.”

“Right,” Danny agrees. He grabs his friends and quickly turns them invisible, ignoring their shivers of discomfort. They always complain that invisibility makes them painfully cold.

The three of them head off to continue their patrol of the town, unaware of the silent figure watching their retreat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is fully written. Updates will be every Sunday!
> 
> Huge huge huge thank you to my beta readers, especially [Fordtato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fordtato/pseuds/Fordtato), who went through this story numerous times with me through several horrible rough drafts to turn it into something that might actually be worth reading. Everyone should go check out her Gravity Falls stories. <3
> 
> (btw his name is spelled nocturn not nocturne and i refuse to assimilate)


	2. Fear

_There’s a cliff._

_It’s suspended in an empty void. There’s no sky, no clouds. Sometimes he thinks he sees the green flash of the Ghost Zone’s ectoplasm, but other than that, it’s just… black._

_Everyone is there. Sam, Tucker, Mom, Dad, and Jazz. They’re smiling._

_He can’t help but smile back, at first. He has no idea why, but he’s just happy they’re happy. He takes a step forward, waving._

_But then… he notices something is wrong with the air behind them. It’s empty, but he can see a shadow within it, almost like a solid block of air. There’s some kind of malevolent entity standing behind his loved ones._

_Danny feels his fear spike, and he opens his mouth to give them a warning. But he can’t seem to get air into his lungs. The harder he tries, the more he feels an intense pressure on his chest. His throat closes on its own. His voice is gone, stolen by the void._

_The people on the cliff keep smiling obliviously as the figure becomes larger and larger behind them. He starts running—he has to_ warn _them somehow!—but his feet sink into the ground. It’s like he’s running in water, or sand up to his knees. His legs barely move, his powers aren’t working, and his friends and family_ still don’t see it _—_

_The figure raises its hands, and flames flicker into existence around them. It casts their faces in shadow, making their smiles look a little too wide, too unnatural. He can hear the fire start to roar._

_He redoubles his efforts, despair bringing tears to his eyes. How do they not see it? Why aren’t they moving? Sam is waving peacefully at him, his dad looks eerily relaxed, and Jazz mouths something to him that looks like_ goodbye _._

_His progress is too slow. The flames are licking at their faces. He can see their skin starting to blacken like paper. Their pleasant expressions don’t change once, even as it reaches their faces, clawing at their lips and creating darkened burned splotches. The ectoplasmic flames are so hot that their forms are wavering before his eyes._

_He finally reaches the edge of the ring of fire, stumbling to his knees in front of it. The embers get thicker, surging in an arc that hides his family from view, making their forms nothing more than dark shadows within the inferno. He doesn’t know what to do; he’s sweating, but he can’t just leave them in there. He has to do something._

_He reaches out an arm toward the fire—_

_And then there’s a crackling noise, piercingly loud over the crackling flames. The edge of the cliff begins to crumble, right in front of him._

_He watches as the cliff that his loved ones’ shadowy figures still rest upon breaks, the dirt and rock crumbling right before him—_

_And they’re falling—_

_Into the void—_

_And he can’t… stop them—_

…

Danny awakens.

As he sits up with a gasp, the sight of his darkened bedroom greets him. The moon lights up the open window, the curtains drifting gently from the outdoor breeze—but everything is otherwise deathly still. Nonetheless, his heart is pounding in his ears, much faster than it should be. Faster than he’s ever felt it since the portal accident.

That dream had been… unpleasantly vivid.

His bedside clock reads 4:26 AM. Trying to calm himself, he glances around, and frowns at his surroundings. He can’t determine what seems off about this otherwise fully normal scene, until he realizes everything has a green tinge. And that’s how he discovers he’s _glowing_. His eyes, his arms, everything is bathed in a dull, ghostly green. He frowns, holding a light-bathed hand up to his face, only to find that his eyes must be glowing as well as the brightness only becomes stronger. He sighs, considering. His core is buzzing, vibrating almost painfully within—it was hard to tell over the pounding of his heartbeat, but it’s becoming more obvious as he calms down. He’s practically radiating with power, though he has no idea why; he didn’t consciously dredge up any of it.

But then his thoughts cast back to the images he was seeing behind his eyelids—

His power flares and the room is immediately illuminated. Ecto-energy swirls around him, and frost spreads over his bedsheets, creeping all up over the walls. Not for the first time, he’s glad he has an ice core. Power surges like this would be much harder to explain if it did not melt.

He lays back down with a groan. After several heaving breaths where he tries to think about the happiest things he can imagine—most of which just so happen to be images of his friends doing fun things with him, or spending time with his family, or just in general them _not freaking dying_ —his heart regains its slightly below-human speed. At last, the glow slowly fades from the room, returning it to its normal moonlit shadowy state.

He knows where this came from. He _knows_. He can see Star’s glazed eyes, the face the only thing visible under the debris and untouched from the ectoplasmic fire that had burned her body. And now, in his mind, her face morphs into that of Sam, staring at him with a blank expression. Of Tucker. Of Jazz. Of his _parents_.

Danny shudders.

Maybe going to the funeral had been a bad idea after all.

xXx

The news reports on the incident in the park last night. Though the victims gush about how Phantom appeared and saved him, his Mom rants over breakfast about how it was clearly all that “filthy ghost boy’s fault” and part of his “evil plot to deceive the town”. Danny ignores her as he chews his cereal, trying to keep himself awake.

He’d tried to get back to sleep. He really had. But he couldn’t. Every time he got close, he saw them again. So he had, funny enough, managed to get some work done on his English essay that was due next week instead. Lancer would be so proud of him.

“Jack?” his mother calls as he’s finishing up breakfast. “Did you finish fueling up the Specter Speeder for tomorrow?”

“Yep, it’s all set, Mads!” his father’s voice resounds from down the stairs to the lab. “We’ll be set in no time!”

“What are you doing with the Specter Speeder?” Jazz asks across the table from him, lowering the book she had been reading.

“We’re going to go into the Ghost Zone tomorrow!” Maddie declares happily. “We’ll finally be entering it ourselves now that we’ve determined it’s safe for humans!”

Danny abruptly chokes on the food he had just put in his mouth, coughing and sputtering. Maddie and Jazz both give him confused and slightly concerned looks.

Once he gets ahold of himself, he manages to spit out, “N-No, that’s a terrible idea!”

“What?” Maddie asks, perplexed. “Why is that, sweetie?”

“Because…” Danny is at a loss for words. He doesn’t immediately know why.

He blinks, and behind his eyelids, incomplete scenes flash before his eyes. Flames, consuming his family. Embers. It morphs, and the dark void around them turns into the green sky of the Ghost Zone, and there’s another ghost, floating above his parents, and it makes him furious because _they are his_ —

He opens his eyes. His mom’s warm smile greets him as she stares expectantly. “I-It just sounds like a bad idea,” Danny concludes lamely.

Maddie laughs warmly and reaches over, ruffling his hair. He rolls his eyes and tries to correct it irritably. “That’s so sweet that you’re worried about us,” she says. “But we’re experts, Danny. We’ll be fine!”

His stomach lurches in disagreement. He clenches his fists and reluctantly nods.

“Besides, we’ve worked hard on the Specter Speeder. It will keep us safe. Now, finish up your food or you’re going to be late!”

As his mother wanders back off toward the lab, Danny ignores Jazz’s odd look. Instead he picks up his food and places his bowl in the sink.

He scowls once his sister looks away, silently scolding himself. He’s getting upset for no reason; his parents have been out ghost hunting on their own plenty of times before. It doesn’t make any sense why his brain decides _today_ that they’re incapable of taking care of themselves.

And what was going on with his ghost core? It feels… heavy, uncomfortably settled in his chest like a block of lead. The idea of them going into the Ghost Zone just makes it _worse_.

He shakes his head and heads back up the stairs. He’s _way_ too worked up about this. It’s probably just some stupid power malfunction.

xXx

That night on patrol, they encounter Skulker.

They find him just outside the school because he was undoubtedly looking for Danny, as usual. Even without any major challenges for the last few days (aside, perhaps, for his odd encounter with Nocturn last night), Danny is happy to report that he hasn’t lost his touch. He still manages to successfully land a multitude of hits on the hunter, and even destroys two of the new guns that Skulker had installed. Skulker is understandably unhappy.

Skulker, however, proves he is not out of the fight when he moves over to Sam and Tucker. Sam manages to dodge the net that Skulker shoots in their direction, but Tucker is not quite fast enough and is tangled up in the net. Skulker dives in on Sam, easily pinning her hands behind her back despite her struggles and shouts of anger and holds her against his chest.

Danny freezes as Skulker lifts the gun to her head.

“That’s enough, ghost child,” Skulker growls triumphantly. “You _will_ surrender your pelt to me, or I will have your friend’s instead!”

“Ugh, just shut _up_ already,” Sam groans, apparently ignoring the gun aimed directly at her temple. “No one’s buying your ‘Ghost Zone’s Greatest Hunter’ act anymore.”

“Silence, whelp!” Skulker shouts. He raises the edge of the gun and hits Sam in the head, making her form crumple to the ground.

Danny freezes.

For an instant, everything moves in slow motion. If he hadn’t been so laser-focused on Sam’s form, falling heavily to the ground, he might have suspected Clockwork’s involvement. Instead, he can’t stop staring, a foreign flood of rage building up in him—

Time unfreezes. He rushes at Skulker, nothing more than a black and white blur. He’s surprised by how quick he is—and so is Skulker, if the expression on his face is any indication.

The ecto-empowered punch strikes him straight in the jaw and Skulker is sent careening across the street, slamming into the wall of a nearby building. The gun that he had held up to his friend’s head fires off a shot, but Skulker was too late, and it is sent flying off wildly behind them. Danny doesn’t bother to look back at the crash that it makes; he is far too focused on the enemy in front of him.

The blow was surprisingly powerful, and his enemy already looks defeated from his spot where he fell onto the pavement. Danny could take out the Fenton thermos now; it would be incredibly easy to trap him within it at this point.

But Danny isn’t done.

His eyes burn, his power thrums and he can’t stop thinking that this ghost _dared_ to threaten what was _his._ He takes a step toward the collapsed Skulker, whose armor is sparking as he struggles to get up; his blast had clearly done quite a number on it. He takes another step, and Skulker’s gaze snaps upward, an odd emotion flickering through his wide eyes.

Is Skulker scared? Good. He should be.

Danny takes another step.

The mechanical ghost redoubles his efforts to stand, now definitely panicked. The wings on the back of his suit spark unhelpfully as Skulker helplessly tries to reactivate it, trying to escape. Danny revels in the sight as ecto-energy coils around his body, snakelike and poised to strike. Danny raises a hand—

“Hey, Danny?” says a familiar voice from behind him.

Danny blinks.

He turns around to face Tucker, who Sam has just untangled from the net. Tucker is looking at him, and Sam is wincing in pain but seemingly fine. Danny feels his heart and core both soar in relief.

The energy surrounding him fizzles out as he remembers what happened to Sam.

“Sam! Are you okay?” he gasps.

“I’m fine,” Sam says, finally managing to steady herself. “I’ll be okay. It’s just… ugh… a possible concussion. All in a day’s work, right?” She raises a hand to the small wound on her head and it comes away with a slight splotch of red.

“Is that _blood_?” Danny cries. “We need to get you to the hospital!”

“I’m fine for now, promise,” she sighs, wiping the red liquid on her skirt. “It’s just bleeding a bit. Not even close to the worst I’ve ever had. Besides, what about Skulker?”

Suddenly reminded of his opponent, Danny whirls around, an ecto-blast alighting in his hand.

But… Skulker is gone. In that brief time that he was distracted, the ghost had vanished. He groans in irritation and lets the energy dissipate into faint green mist once and for all. “Ugh, he got away!” He clenches his fists and turns back around to his friends. “I can’t _believe_ him! He… he tried to _shoot you_ and then he just leaves?”

“Yeah, well, that’s Skulker for ya,” Tucker says, giving him a small grin. “Always pulling out the _big guns_.”

Tucker’s pun does nothing for Danny’s mood. The ghost boy merely crosses his arms and scowls. “But he’s never been like _that_ ,” Danny insists. “He could have killed you!”

“It’s not like that’s the first time he’s threatened us directly,” Sam points out. “He’s not even the first ghost who’s threatened us directly. Heck, he’s not even the first one _this week_.”

“Well… yeah, I know,” Danny says. It’s not like they’re wrong. He thinks back on his encounter with Spectra earlier this week. She had some truly horrifying plans—and many of them relied on the misery that others would feel when one of their loved ones died. Thinking of Sam and Tucker in that situation forces him to squeeze his eyes shut to fight the burst of energy that threatens to engulf his hands once again. To try and push it back down, he continues, “I’m just worried. It seems like every day, ghost fighting gets more and more dangerous.”

There’s a pause as his friends apparently share a glance that Danny is unable to decipher. He almost pouts; he doesn’t like that they’re able to communicate silently without him knowing what they mean.

“You don’t need to worry about us, dude,” Tucker says at last, walking over and slinging a friendly arm around Danny’s shoulders. “We can handle ourselves.”

“Yeah. Don’t be an overprotective weirdo,” Sam adds, though the grin takes off any bite her comment might have had.

Danny squeezes his eyes shut—but then quickly opens them again when he just sees the horrible images that have been haunting him all day. “Right. Yeah. Sorry. I, uh… this is the second time today this has happened. I’ve just been a bit off today, I guess.”

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, what the heck was going on with you and Skulker?” Sam asks casually.

Danny frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“You looked ready to waste him. What’d he do?”

Danny barely holds back a wince as he thinks about what he had almost just done. He’s been so overcome with protective fury that he’d… well, he’s not really sure what he would have done to Skulker, but he certainly hadn’t been about to _stop_. “I, uh… I guess I just overreacted when I saw him hit you.”

“That’s it?” Sam asks dubiously.

Danny nods reluctantly. “Yep. It’s just been a… tough day.”

“Um, well… maybe we should get Sam to someone to check her out and make sure it’s not actually a concussion?” Tucker cuts in. “Probably should at least get some bandages or something.”

They leave together, and though his friends continue chatting, he ignores them. Danny can’t stop thinking about Sam getting hit by Skulker. If he’d only been a bit faster, a bit stronger, a bit _better_ , nothing would have happened to his friends…

He angrily huffs. His friends are not possessions, and it’s _not_ okay he’s treating them like prized dolls. He forcefully shoves back down all those emotions.

He just needs time, he thinks. He needs to move on, maybe do some normal things with his friends after patrol. With a bit of luck, he’ll be back to normal by tonight.

xXx

He’s not.

It’s the middle of the night, but Danny hasn’t quite fallen asleep yet. His mind keeps going back to what his mother said this morning.

They wanted to go into the Ghost Zone, and he just can’t stop thinking about it.

He hears his parents finishing up the preparations until at least one in the morning. He isn’t able to sleep the whole time. He knows he’ll regret this at school tomorrow, but he can’t help it.

When his parents go to sleep, he slips out of bed and silently sneaks into the lab. His gaze falls upon the Specter Speeder itself, parked directly in front of the Ghost Portal for their trip.

He opens up the compartment where the ecto-converter that powers the machine is kept and takes a look at it. True to his word, Danny’s dad had filled it up yesterday.

His hand hovers above it, hesitating. This is a terrible idea. So many things could go wrong. And imagine what his parents would think if they found out!

But he has to. Something inside of him (a part that he knows, but refuses to admit, resides inside his ghost core) is _screaming_. He’s literally losing sleep over this. He has to do it, for both his sake and, more importantly, for his parents’.

So, he lights his hand and quickly releases a burst of energy at the engine.

The strike is louder than he expected, a large booming crash in the silence of their house as the internal components explode. He cringes and glances around nervously, listening carefully to see if his family had heard the commotion. But no one comes.

He takes a moment to examine his handiwork. The engine is now smoking, pieces charred and melted and bent. It won’t work without significant repairs.

He can’t decide whether he feels more ashamed or pleased.

Quickly looking away, Danny floats back up through the ceiling and into his room.

He wraps himself up in the sheets of his bed, trying to fight down the guilt. Yes, he knows his parents will be disappointed tomorrow. But that’s ultimately better than them going out somewhere that’s not safe. He knows more about the Ghost Zone and its dangers than they do. They just don’t know any better. He’s saved them by doing this.

With that thought in mind and a content hum in his core, Danny drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've slightly changed the summary because I realized my old one was a little too close to [BriarLovesU](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLovesU/pseuds/BriarLovesU)'s fic. :P They are writing a story with a similar concept called [To Protect Loved Ones](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418622/chapters/64360549) and I highly recommend it!! I owe them for inspiring me! :)
> 
> Also I really hate dream scenes and super didn't want to write this one but eh. As a side note, what I described with Danny being unable to talk is a personal experience. I used to be super into lucid dreaming, but every time I would finally gain lucidity, I found myself completely unable to speak. Trying to say anything beyond a croak took TONS of effort. It sucked.


	3. Human

Danny has another nightmare the next night.

Somehow, it's worse.

When he sits up in bed, there are screams echoing in his head. Horrifying visions of him helplessly watching his family and friends dying flashing. He unsteadily gets to his feet, ignoring the inhuman lighting of the room that is emanating from his body, the haunting green that paints the walls and the ghostly chill that seeps into the air. He hardly sees any of it anyway.

He stumbles over to his bedroom door, opening it by throwing out his hand and blindly grasping the handle. He nearly trips on the carpet in the hall, bumping into the wall as he makes his way to the bathroom. After fumbling with the knob and locking the door, he immediately leans on the sink, squeezing his eyes shut, listening to his own erratic breathing. His head is pounding. His… his _ghost core_ is pounding. It's like… like it's expanding uncomfortably, writhing in this chest and pushing against its natural boundaries. It hurts. He clenches his fists tightly, as though if he just tries hard enough, he can will the pain and the images away—

He feels a stabbing in his hands. He looks down. His nails dug into his palm so hard that they left red indentations.

He turns on the sink and rinses off his hands. He stares blankly as the clear liquid burns the shallow cuts on his palm before it encompasses them in a soothing warmth. His hands are still faintly glowing from the dream, but even that is beginning to fade. Along with it, his ghost core begins to settle, though he can still feel it faintly prickling in his chest. He continues standing there, with his hands in the stream from the sink, just watching as the stream of water swirls in the basin and goes down the drain for far longer than he probably should.

When he finally feels like he has enough of a grip on himself, he slowly reaches over and turns off the water. He rummages through the sink and finds the first aid kit that Jazz had stashed there for when he returned from ghost fights. He rummages around until he finds the bottle of painkillers. He takes one out, pops it into his mouth—and then he reconsiders and grabs two more and swallows them too.

As he forces the pills down his dry throat, he imagines having to use this kit on his friends and family, who are injured because a ghost got to them, because he didn't _protect them_ —

He's jolted out of his thoughts by a knocking on the door, which startles him so much that he yelps, flinging off an ecto-blast that goes crashing into the mirror. It crackles loudly, shards raining down on top of him as his heart pounds in his ears.

There's a sharp intake of breath outside the door. "…Um, Danny?" It's Jazz's voice.

"I-I'm okay!" he quickly calls out, scrambling to brush the shards into a pile. "I, uh, just… broke something. It's fine though!"

"…All right. Do you need help?" Jazz sounds extremely uncertain. He resists the urge to rush out there and make sure that _she's_ okay, because why is she worrying about him _when she's the one in constant danger—_ "Danny?" she says when he doesn't answer, sounding worried now. "Are you there?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just… give me a sec."

There's a pause. "I, uh… okay. Well, I want to shower when you're done so… let me know when you're out."

"Yes, _okay,_ Jazz, I get it," he says, trying to emulate the typical tone of an annoyed younger brother, despite how he feels sick to his stomach with the images of death that _still won't leave him alone_.

He listens as she seems to hesitate. She isn't leaving. He wants her to leave. No, wait, he wants her to stay. He doesn't know. Conflicting instincts war inside of him, and he's frozen, unable to move or speak or _breathe_ —

At last, he hears Jazz walk away, her footsteps fading down the hallway.

He nearly punches the sink in frustration; why can't he just _get a grip and be normal?!_ This is _not_ normal, and he _knows_ it, but he can't stop thinking about it!

A few minutes later he emerges, slightly more in control of himself. The shards of glass in the bathroom are more or less cleaned up, although the cracks in the mirror make it all too obvious that something happened. He'll have to find a way to explain that later.

He passes by Jazz's room and lets her know that he's done. Just as he's about to enter back into his own room, she stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Danny, Mom and Dad said the Specter Speeder's engine was destroyed last night," she says. "They said it seemed like a ghost did it. Did you see anything last night?"

His heart nearly stops. He'd… actually managed to forget all about that. The emotions from last night come back to him, the satisfaction he'd felt when laying in bed, the pride of successfully protecting his parents—

He forces a shrug, which conveniently also has the effect of pushing her hand off him. "Uh, nope, nothing. I didn't fight any ghosts last night. I mean, you know how Mom and Dad are. It's probably a normal issue and they're just blaming ghosts."

"Hmm. Maybe." Jazz purses her lips and stares at him, examining his form critically. He fights back the urge to flee; he'd seen himself in the mirror, and he has no doubt her well-trained eye is making all _kinds_ of assumptions about his disheveled clothes, unkempt hair, and heavy bags under his eyes.

He finally can't stand it, and he pivots toward his room, leaving his back to her. "I don't have time for this. I gotta get ready for school."

When he hurries into his room and shuts the door, he is definitely _not_ running away from his own sister.

xXx

A week after the horrifying loss of one of its students, Casper High finally seems to be returning to normal. For a while, a somber mood had consumed the school, noticeable even to outsiders. Teenagers were _never_ so quiet. But at last, the hallways are beginning to bustle with life and energy again, students regaining their spirit and moving on.

The A Listers, on the other hand, are still rather quiet. Sure, students are once again being shoved in lockers and getting their lunch money stolen, and for the sake of the school's football fame very few of them are punished. But everything is done with much less enthusiasm than usual.

No one dares bring up that there is one less bully than usual.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker are making their way to their usual table when Sam suddenly bumps into Paulina. The food on her tray spills all over the popular girl.

"Watch it, freak!" Paulina snaps, flinging bits of food off her onto the floor.

Sam's mouth twists into a scowl, and she looks about to growl right back at her—but Danny is surprised when she takes a deep breath and backs away. "Sorry," she says, though the twist of her lips makes her look like the word leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

Paulina doesn't seem to notice Sam's uncharacteristic apology. "This shirt was brand new, and now you've ruined it!" she shrieks. "And now I have to keep this stain all day. And… and…" Paulina's voice trails off, her words petering out as her expression becomes unusually devastated.

Sam bites her lip. "Look. I know you've been having a bad week, Paulina…"

The girl's head snaps up. "I am _fine_ ," she hisses. "I don't need any sympathy from _you_!" Paulina lifts her hand and shoves Sam, making the goth stumble in surprise.

And that's when Danny suddenly feels a surge of anger.

_She touched Sam—_

He snatches Paulina's hand out of the air in a tight, white-knuckled grip. " _Don't touch her_!"

There's a beat of silence. Paulina looks flabbergasted. A quick glance at Sam and Tucker reveals much of the same astonishment. He supposes that they have a good reason. He's _never_ stood up to Paulina before.

Paulina pulls her hand away roughly, glaring to cover up a wince. She subtly massages her hand; he can see the red marks where he was holding her, but he can't bring himself to care over his bubbling anger.

"Yeah, well… don't touch me either, loser!" Paulina tosses her hair, but it's obvious to everyone that her haughty attitude is only done for appearances. Her heart's not in it. "Your creepy girlfriend was the one who got in _my_ way! Not my fault she's too stupid to look where she's going!"

"He's not my—"

"You can't talk to her like that," Danny growls over Sam's typical protest, fists clenched in rage. He sees Paulina's eyes burn at the command, but he doesn't back down. He feels his core surging again, but the uncomfortable needling he's felt all day is finally gone, replaced by cold confidence and power. It urges him to do more. His fist clenches, and he can feel the energy swirling around it. "Everyone can see that you're just trying to be cool. But you're _not_. Star isn't here hovering around to make you feel better about yourself!"

For a second he entertains the thought of using the pent up power. It would be so easy to get rid of Paulina. A single ecto-blast would be more than enough to send her running if she was smart, and if not, well… what would she be able to do against a ghost?

Someone grabs his arm and roughly spins him around. He blindly shoves them away, snarling—

And he sees Sam, glaring right back at him, completely unaffected.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she whispers sharply. "Stop it! Her best friend _died_ this week. Look at her!"

He pauses.

The power slowly drains away. He glances at Paulina, and…

He's never seen her look so broken. Tears are pooling at the corner of her eyes, and her mouth is twisted in anguish. Her whole body is quivering. Paulina is always so in control; seeing her like this is _wrong_.

His heart clenches. … _He_ did that. And he wasn't even going to stop. He was about to…

After a sniffle, Paulina raises her chin defiantly, spins without a word, and marches away. The cafeteria door swings shut behind her.

Danny takes a step forward, half-considering going after her. He can't leave it at that. He has to apologize. Sam's arm extends in front him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Let her go. You've done enough." Her tone is biting.

"I'm sorry," he tells her since the _real_ person he wants to apologize to is no longer there. "I-I don't know what I was thinking. I just… She insulted you, and—"

"I know you're upset too, Danny. I get that," Sam says flatly. "But you _really_ screwed up. Paulina's just as human as you are. You should know better than anyone how much a death can affect you!"

He does.

He was the last one to see Star alive, after all.

"I'm done," Sam says abruptly. "I can't stay here with you right now. I just… I thought you were better than that." She shakes her head. "See you later."

Danny watches as Sam, too, stalks away, exiting the cafeteria. He feels… oddly betrayed, despite knowing that Sam was completely right about everything. He only barely manages to stop himself from grabbing her and demanding that she stay nearby.

As she slams the door behind her, Tucker nudges him gently. "Uh, by the way. Eyes."

Danny blinks. The glow from them finally fades.

 _Paulina's just as human as you are,_ Sam had said. Deep inside him, a traitorous voice wonders if that's true.

xXx

Something is wrong with his ghost core.

Danny's core has been acting up all day, ever since that nightmare. And that confrontation with Paulina was just the beginning.

Whenever he looks at his friends and family, it pulses with energy, as if he's about to face off against a ghost. It leaves him jumpy and constantly alert, like an incessant adrenaline rush. He doesn't want to leave his friends' side. He _knows_ there's no threat, not really, but he can't help but feel anxiety every time he has to part ways with them. And with what happened earlier? He's almost scared of himself, of how easily that anger could still be dredged up, even now.

He doesn't want to think about his lack of control over his own powers and emotions might mean. The way his core keeps acting up, it's almost like—

He stops that thought.

Danny calls off patrol for that night. His friends are annoyed, insisting that they have to make sure the town is safe, but he's not having it. He tells them he's feeling tired—hardly a lie, considering his night was filled with visions of his friends' and family's deaths.

But that's not the true reason. With gruesome imaginings of their demise in his head and the memory of Sam being struck by Skulker's gun still fresh in his mind, Danny is terrified of letting his friends go up against ghosts again. It's far too dangerous for them, and he doesn't trust himself to be able to keep them safe in this state.

Instead, the three of them stay inside and watch horror movies at Sam's in-home theater. They joke around and have fun and it's almost like nothing has changed, like they're still back to a week prior, when ghost hunting was still the fun activity they did in their spare time and not something _real_ , something where lives were actually at stake.

That is… until Danny's ghost sense goes off. Sam and Tucker stare at him expectantly.

Danny bites his lip. "I mean… it's probably nothing, right? They probably don't need me."

"Danny!" Sam scolds. "How can you say that? This is your responsibility!"

 _Maybe_ , Danny thinks, _but you're my responsibility too._ How can he explain to her that he's scared to leave her and Tucker alone? That as soon as he turns his back, something might happen to them?

"We haven't even heard any screams or anything. It might just be a ghost animal," he says weakly.

"And what if it's _not_?" she counters.

"Dude, just go," Tucker says. "She's not gonna be happy if you don't."

"If you don't go, I'm going instead," Sam growls.

And, well, that's probably the only thing she could say that would convince him.

"Fine." He sighs dramatically and transforms. "You guys stay here. I'll let you know if I need you."

He phases through the roof and squints around, surveying the area. In the distance, he can hear some kind of commotion. Technus? He'd recognize that nasally cackle anywhere.

He sighs; Technus is fairly strong, and it might take a bit of time to get rid of him, especially without his usual friends as backup. Really, he _should_ go back and get them. He did promise them he would… but his core practically _screams_ at that thought. It also screams at the idea of leaving them alone for however long this fight will take, though. He's about to tear out his hair in frustration.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a movement. A stray ectopus passes by, drifting along and seemingly oblivious to his presence.

He stares at it. Then glances at the street over, where the screams of terror are punctuated by the boom of what was undoubtedly an explosion. He looks to the ectopus, still calm and unmoving.

xXx

A few minutes later, he returns with a full thermos. He tosses it to Sam. "See? Just a small ghost passing through. I told you."

"Great," Sam says with a smile. "Good to know you were complaining about something that took you five seconds."

"Now let's get back to the movie!" Tucker cheers.

If the screams from people being attacked by electronics in the distance were growing louder as he left, he certainly doesn't mention it. Besides, he spotted Valerie heading in that direction. She can handle Technus.

He knows that he should be more worried about those people being attacked. Every time he thinks about it, he feels guilty, and he almost wants to fly away and help them anyway. But then he looks at his friends, where Tucker is flinging popcorn at Sam who bats it away with a groan as he laughs…

His anxieties are washed away, replaced by a content feeling that radiates from his core.

He's not a ghost. He's still human. This is normal; he's just looking out for his friends. Even if Sam and Tucker wouldn't agree, Danny is sure he made the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are still a liiiittle too tame. Next chapter's gonna be fun. :)
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos so far! <3


	4. Defend

Danny is almost used to waking up glowing and surrounded by frost now.

The room is brighter than ever. It’s almost like it’s the middle of the day inside of his room until the green glow of his core slowly recedes as he takes deep, shuddering breaths to try and calm himself.

His whole room is lit with eerie green shadows and—he looks down and realizes he’d shifted to ghost form while asleep. He frowns, momentarily confused by his gloved hands; he’s never done _that_ before.

The pull from his core is just getting stronger.

It’s been five days. Only five days, and he already feels like he’s going insane. Every time he closes his eyes, a new horrifying vision assaults him. His anxiety spikes every single time he thinks of it, every time he thinks of his friends, or his parents, or his sister, and his core responds rapidly to it. He’s found his eyes beginning to glow whenever he thinks of it. He keeps picturing them in Star’s place, staring with blank eyes. And in every single dream, they get hurt because he couldn’t keep them safe. They’re out ghost hunting, or on a trip, or, or… anywhere but right by his side.

It’s like a scab. The more the nightmares pick at it, the more it bleeds, and the worse it gets. He’s getting a headache just from trying to fight off the insistence from his core to _do something, you left them alone, they’re not protected, anything could happen, what if another ghost comes by—_

He hates it. He _hates it._

He phases through his sheets and thinks about his friends. What if the dream was a precognition? What if they are in danger? The glow from his body pulses again and he is hit with the overwhelming urge to check on them.

He flies through the walls of his bedroom into Jazz’s. His sister is fine. His parents’ room is next. He phases in, taking extra care since he has a feeling they would not react well to finding Phantom watching them as they sleep. He could always go invisible, he supposes, if he had to. They’d never even know he was there.

Once he’s certain his family is fine, he phases through the roof. He takes one last glance at his house; he’s not happy to leave, but at least his home has plenty of ghost defenses built in. They’re more likely to stay safe than his friends are. Without another thought, he’s off toward Tucker’s house at full speed. His house is closer than Sam’s.

He phases into Tucker’s bedroom and finds his friend sleeping silently, illuminated faintly by the glow of his PC monitor which was left on the pause screen of Doomed. Danny smiles at that; it seems very much like Tucker. He can feel some of the leftover anxiety from the dream fading away at the normal sight.

Danny floats over to Tucker’s bed and checks him over. Tucker’s chest rises and falls as usual, and his face is completely peaceful in sleep. Absolutely nothing seems amiss, but Danny can’t help the urge to shake his friend awake to double check.

He lets out a huff of air and reminds himself that he still needs to check on Sam as well. He reluctantly takes a step away; he almost wants to stay there all night, watching Tucker. But his other friend needs him too.

As he finally flies off toward Sam’s mansion, he wishes he could keep an eye on _both_ of his friends at once. He wonders if he could keep up a duplicate for that long across such a long distance. He sighs. Even if he could, would he be able to stay up all night?

He spends the rest of the night next to Sam’s bed, silently observing her. He’s content to just stay there, watching. He thinks that maybe something is wrong with that. That it’s probably not right to stare at his friend while she sleeps. But… well, he has a good excuse. Anyone could attack her.

Sam’s words from a week ago, unbidden, echo in his mind. _“Don’t be an overprotective weirdo…”_

He shakes his head. This is different! She’s completely undefended at night, and he’s fixing that. That’s not being _over_ protective, right?

When her alarm goes off as the first rays of sun peek under her curtains, he vanishes.

xXx

Danny is acting strange.

Sam and Tucker both think this as they go through their morning routine on the way to school. They keep exchanging glances with one another when Danny isn’t looking. Which is… worryingly rare. Danny won’t stop looking at them.

He seems permanently on edge, staring at them intensely as they walk to school. He tries to hide it with carefree smiles and the same careless chatter they have every morning, discussing new movies coming out or plans for the weekend, but his friends can tell something’s up. Every time there’s a remotely loud noise, he glares at their surroundings and then snaps his gaze back to them. He isn’t even looking at where he’s going. Sam’s pretty sure he phased straight through a rock in his path to avoid tripping on it without even glancing away from her.

And, well… his eyes are red and bloodshot, emphasized by the dark bags under them. Solid evidence of a night with no sleep. But that’s sort of to be expected from Danny these days.

“Okay, man, you gotta tell us what’s going on.” Tucker breaks down first. “Were there a bunch of ghost attacks last night? Why didn’t you call us?”

“No, no, it was nothing,” Danny laughs awkwardly. “Just couldn’t sleep. I had another nightmare and… yeah. Couldn’t sleep. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“ _Another_ nightmare?” Tucker repeats. “Why, have you been having a lot of them lately?”

Danny jolts and rapidly shakes his head. “No. No! I’m just... Ugh…”

“Look, I get that you’re kind of paranoid on the best of days? But a stupid nightmare doesn’t usually make you _this_ wound up,” Sam points out.

“I had a nightmare last night, too!” Tucker pipes up. “I imagined that my parents forced me to be vegetarian for a week. It was _horrible_. But you don’t see me acting like a weirdo.”

“Yeah? So glad to hear that _you_ can just shake it off, Tucker,” Danny snaps.

There’s a sharp beat of silence between them. Tucker is taken aback. “I, uh… sorry, dude. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Danny feels a brief stab of guilt, but it’s easily washed away by his bubbling frustration. He looks away. However, that lasts for only a second before Danny is fidgeting and his eyes seem almost drawn back to them again.

“You know,” Sam says, her voice hardly concealing her own annoyance, “if you’re going to be a jerk you could at least stop _staring at us._ ”

Now it’s Danny’s turn to look surprised. “I… I’m not staring! I’m just… worried about you.”

Tucker squints in confusion. “Why? What do we have to do with any of this?”

Danny realizes his mistake and quickly scowls. “Nothing! I already said I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Were we in your dream?” Sam demands. Danny just crosses his arms, refusing to answer.

After a moment, Tucker tentatively speaks up. “You know, speaking of dreams, I also had one about you last night, Danny. I imagined you were in my room in ghost form for some reason.” His voice is soft. Not accusing, but with a wary undertone nonetheless. “Weird, huh?”

Danny’s reaction is dramatic: he freezes, stopping full on in his tracks, his face momentarily shocked. He quickly shakes it off with nervous laughter and hurries to catch up with them. “Uh… yeah. Weird.”

Silence falls over the group again. Despite the clear reluctance to interact with them now, Danny _still_ can’t seem to stop stealing looks at them. They reach the school and the noise of other students gradually surrounds them, easing the painfully tense quiet that had shrouded the trio.

They reach Danny’s locker, which is closest to the entrance of the school and pause. Danny turns, rubbing his arm nervously. “Hey, uh. I just wanted to say, I’m not like, mad at you or anything. I’m just… frustrated, I guess? I don’t know.” He rubs his eyes with the palm of his hand. “I’ve just… constantly been on edge. Ever since… you know.”

They do know. They weren’t there—Danny had been out by himself that night. Sam was at a stupid dinner party with her family, and Tucker had gone camping with his parents. But well… they know how hard that night hit him.

And even though he didn’t tell them, they _know_ he went to the funeral. His smiles had been just a bit too fake that night.

“It… It really made me realize how easily I could lose you,” Danny concludes.

Sam places a hand on his shoulder with a gentle smile. “Hey, I get it. Everyone has bad days. Just try not to take it out on us, okay? And, uh, maybe stop staring all the time? It’s getting a bit creepy.”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh… I’ll try not to.” He attempts to take his gaze away from her to his locker—but it doesn’t stay there long. A second later, a cry is heard across the hall:

“ _Fenton_!”

Danny groans, resting his head against the lockers with a metallic clank. “It’s not even first period yet…”

As expected, Dash Baxter marches over to them quickly, ignoring Sam’s glare and Tucker’s hasty step back as he grabs the back of Danny’s shirt and spins him around. “I got an F on my math test yesterday!” the jock shouts angrily. He can hear some of the other jocks nearby taunting them, urging Dash on.

Danny frowns. “I mean… were you expecting something different?”

Dash’s eyes flash with fury. Tucker facepalms and Sam rolls her eyes. Once _again_ , Danny can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.

“I copied _your_ paper, so that makes this your fault!” Dash spits.

“You copied me and expected a good grade? That’s your first mistake,” Danny deadpans. Tucker snickers behind him.

This proves to be a mistake as Dash whirls around and faces the technogeek. “You think this is funny, Foley?”

Tucker’s eyes widen. “U-Uh, no?”

Dash raises a fist menacingly. “You better not,” he declares, “or else I’ll have to take it out on _you_ as well!”

Tucker isn’t quite sure what happens next.

One moment he’s staring at Dash’s towering form, cursing his best friend for being so incredibly funny in the face of danger… and then suddenly he’s staring at said best friend, who is glaring at the lockers across the hall with glowing green eyes as Dash slams into them with a painfully loud crash. The football player yells, his voice cracking in high-pitched pain as his arm is twisted behind him at an awkward angle. He collapses in a heap, choking out a sound that is definitely him warding off tears.

The jeers that had been filling the hall are gone. Everyone stops and stares. It’s dead silent.

“Dude!” Tucker manages to gasp out. “Did you just _hit_ him?”

Dash looks dazed as he tries to pick himself off from the lockers, cradling his arm with a look of anguish on his face. There’s a clear dent in the metal behind him as well as a slight cut on the side of his head that bleeds gently from where he hit the edge of one of the combination locks.

Danny still hasn’t stopped glaring at the jock, his eyes still glowing and hands balled into fists, looking for all the world like he was ready to hit Dash _again_. Green sparks dance across his fingertips. “Danny,” Sam hisses, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Cut it out.”

Instead, Danny takes a step forward. “ _He threatened Tucker_ ,” he snarls. Tucker can swear he hears a slight echo in his voice. He’s never seen his friend this furious before, his expression murderous. His neon eyes make inhuman shadows on his face and the air pulses with subtle crackling of ghostly energy. Dash looks up at him, and though he still seems a bit out of it from the hit his head took, he has enough presence of mind to look _incredibly nervous_ as he stares at Danny. Never in his life did Tucker think he’d imagine Dash and _nervous_ in the same sentence, especially regarding Danny, but, well…

“Danny, it’s just Dash,” Tucker whispers. “He _always_ threatens me! It’s, like, our daily routine! He just threatened you a second ago! I’m seriously fine. And if you don’t stop…” He lowers his voice to just above a whisper, “someone’s gonna figure out your secret!”

At first, Tucker isn’t sure that Danny heard him. The halfa continues to glower at Dash, unblinking and unmoving. But, a beat more and Danny finally seems to relax, unclenching his fists, the glow fading from his eyes. With it, the nervous tension in the room dissipates and almost everyone lets out a collectively held breath.

“ _Things Fall Apart_! What is going _on_ here?”

Mr. Lancer, rather late in Tucker’s opinion, finally arrives, surveying the scene with critical eyes. His gaze drifts from the injured Dash, to the still scowling Danny, to the huddle of students watching in fascination. Among them are Sam and Tucker, who both look extremely guilty.

“Mr. Fenton! Ms. Manson! Mr. Foley! You are all coming with me.”

Danny’s gaze immediately drops to the ground, where it remains as he shuffles over the teacher. Tucker and Sam exchange wide eyed glances before following.

Yeah. Danny is _definitely_ acting strange.

xXx

Danny sits outside of the principal’s office, nervously swinging his legs as he awaits his turn to go inside. Dash had been taken to the nurse, and Sam and Tucker were currently inside, talking to Principal Ishiyama.

He knows what he did wasn’t normal. He’s _never_ been that aggressive to Dash. Actually, he’s never been aggressive to Dash _at all,_ unless you counted constant backtalk as aggression. He’s never even _considered_ physically taking things out on Dash. Pranking him? Sure. But hitting him? Shoving him _across the hallway_? It was insane.

But he couldn’t help himself. He’d just… suddenly been _overwhelmed_ with rage. As soon as Dash had turned to Tucker, he felt his core, which had been humming constantly all day, _surge_ with power. And the next thing he knew, he’d leapt into action, full ghostly strength activated and entirely focused on the human in front of him. Maybe somewhere deep within him, he’d known very well that it was _wrong_ —that attacking someone with ghost powers in the middle of school was a terrible, stupid idea, risking everything he’d tried to hide ever since the accident… not to mention morally questionable. Dash was a bully, yes, he’d been making Danny’s life miserable since third grade, _yes_ —but even he could do absolutely nothing against _a freaking ghost._ That was the whole reason Danny never fought back.

But as soon as Dash looked at his friend, he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t cared anymore. And if Tucker hadn’t stopped him? Or if… if Dash had _actually_ hurt Tucker? Danny isn’t sure what he would have done.

…And _he doesn’t even regret it._

As he thinks back, picturing Dash’s crumpled form against the lockers… he just feels _satisfied_. His core purrs happily in his chest. He’s glad that he removed the threat from his friend, that Dash will not have a chance to hurt him. He’s glad that maybe, just maybe, the jock will think twice next time before threatening Tucker.

Even now, even as he sits awaiting his fate, Tucker and Sam are all he can think of. His mind is running wild with thoughts about what could be happening to them beyond the office door. What if they were attacked? What if he somehow didn’t sense a ghost?

He is just about to completely forget the consequences and phase straight through the wall just to make sure they are okay when the door swings open. His eyes immediately snap to the forms of his friends as they exit the principal’s office. Tucker looks miserable, and Sam looks angry. Without looking at him, she jerks her head backwards. “Ishiyama’s ready for you whenever.”

He stands up, feeling much more concerned for them than his upcoming punishment. “Are you guys okay though?” he asks, approaching them cautiously. He’s particularly concerned about how upset Tucker looks. “Nothing happened, right?”

“What the _hell_ kind of question is that?” Sam snaps, surprising him with her biting tone. “Of course we’re not okay! We just watched you _totally lose it_! Dash has a concussion and was literally bleeding. You… Ishiyama said he had to go to the _hospital_ , Danny. We’ve talked about this! You _know_ better than to use your powers on someone!”

Danny blinks. “I mean… yeah. I know. But I had to do _something_.”

He turns to Tucker, expecting his friend to back him up. Instead, Tucker can’t seem to meet his eyes and is looking at the wall across from them.

“No, you didn’t,” she snarls. “You know why? Because Dash does this _literally every single day._ You know he won’t seriously hurt anyone. A few bruises at worst. What you did was much worse than anything Dash has done for _years_.”

Danny frowns. “I guess you’re right,” Danny agrees reluctantly. “Maybe I went a little too far. But… I couldn’t help it. I mean… he threatened Tucker.”

He says that like that explains everything, and in his mind it _should_. He can’t just _not_ help Tucker.

But somehow Sam doesn’t see it. She releases a wordless snarl. “Whatever, Danny. Next time you decide to do this? Keep us out of it. Come on, Tucker.” She grabs hold of Tucker’s arm, dragging him away.

Danny watches them with several emotions roiling in his gut. He feels guilty, yes—he knows every word Sam said was right. Dash has threatened his friends before, and Danny’s never snapped like that. He knows he’s on edge today from his nightmare, and that must have made him a bit more impulsive than usual. And maybe a tad bit more violent as well. A part of him is screaming to apologize.

But the much louder part of him is instead angry. Why didn’t she _understand_? He’s always protected them, and he can’t help but feel slightly indignant that she’s not grateful for it this time. Honestly, what he did should protect them for _months_ to come from bullying!

“Mr. Fenton?” a female voice calls from within the office. He winces, remembering that his fate was about to be decided. With a heavy sigh, he drags his feet into the room.

Principal Ishiyama’s office is sparsely decorated. Danny slumps into one of the chairs, leaning heavily against the back and refusing to meet Ishiyama’s glare.

“Mr. Fenton, I must say, I’m very disappointed in your actions today,” she says simply. “You’ve always been a troublemaker, but to actually pick a fight with another student? I never thought I would have to talk to you about that.”

Danny is suddenly overcome with anger. “Yeah? Well maybe if you stopped Dash from _beating everyone up_ all the time, I wouldn’t _have_ to pick fights!”

She looks briefly shocked by his outburst before her features are covered in cool fury. “It seems,” she says, her tone clipped, “that you are not the least bit remorseful about your actions. I wanted to speak to you about apologizing to perhaps lower your sentence, but you’ve shown me that you are not quite ready for that.” She shuffles around the papers on her desk. “You are suspended for three days, Daniel. I hope that gives you time to think about what you’ve done and come back in a much better state of mind.”

The anger bleeds out of Danny at her words and he sits, stunned. Suspension? Somehow, that thought had never crossed his mind.

“I have already called your parents and notified them about this situation. They will be here shortly to discuss things further with me and take you home for the day,” Ishiyama explains. “You may sit outside of my office and wait.”

Danny is still unresponsive as she guides him out of the room and sets him down in one of the chairs. He can’t help but be terrified of what his parents will think. He’s been having school trouble lately, especially with attendance and his grades, all because of his ghost fighting. But… _suspension_? Before high school, he hadn’t even been to the principal’s office before. And now he was getting suspended?

He takes a deep breath. He hadn’t expected this, but… it was fine. He would be fine. Being at home just gave him more time to patrol the city for a bit, right? He could spend the next few days extra-vigilant of ghosts and… and it would be fine.

Besides. He’d done it to protect his friend. And despite this punishment, he still knew it was worth it, no matter what Sam thought.

xXx

His parents did not agree.

He was grounded, which meant no ghost hunting, and no hanging out with Sam and Tucker. He had fought as hard as he could against that, but other than saying he _had_ to be near them so they would be _safe_ he’d had no idea how to make that argument.

He finally slinks off to his room after a long shouting match with his mother. He knew he wouldn’t get through to them. They just didn’t seem to understand.

It isn’t long before he hears a knock on his door, and he sighs heavily. He knows who it is.

“Danny?” his sister’s voice calls through the door. “Can I talk to you?”

He doesn’t want to talk… but he also doesn’t want her to leave. He wants her close by, where he can keep an eye on her.

Taking the silence as permission, Jazz opens the door. She finds him laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Hey,” she greets quietly. “I talked to Sam and Tucker. …Sam’s not happy with you.”

He grabs his pillow and presses it into his face. “I don’t care,” he mumbles into his pillow, voice muffled to the point of almost being indiscernible.

Danny hears Jazz sigh and feels the bed shift as she sits down next to him. He doesn’t move the pillow from his face.

“Tucker mentioned you complained about nightmares,” Jazz says. “And you’ve been very nervous around them lately. Overprotective.”

Danny doesn’t answer.

“I… I know you saw something very traumatic last week. I just… want to make sure that you’re not still dwelling on it. You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Ugh, _no_ _,_ Jazz,” he grumbles. “This has nothing to do with that.”

Is that true? He’d been perfectly normal a week ago. None of this had started until after the funeral.

“Is that why you didn’t want Mom and Dad to go into the Ghost Zone?” Jazz asks. “You think that they could end up like… like Star?”

Jazz is way too perceptive, he thinks with frustration. “No,” he insists. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“Danny, you’re _not_ fine,” she says, a note of annoyance in her tone now. “You can’t keep all these emotions bottled up. It’s not good for you. If you won’t talk to me, then maybe you need to talk to a professional.” She hesitates. “You know, nightmares are a symptom of PTSD.”

“How many times do I have to say that this has _nothing_ to do with that!” he shouts, suddenly sitting up and angry. Jazz looks taken aback; he can feel his eyes glowing. “I’m just worried about you, okay? Normal worried! Besides… Star’s not even in my nightmares.” Nope. Instead, he gets the pleasure of seeing Sam in Star’s place, crushed by the debris. Of Tucker, staring blank-eyed at the sky. Of his parents, their bodies pinned in place and twisted in ways that are unnatural. Of Jazz herself, burns on her still and unmoving body… “They’re just normal nightmares.”

She frowns skeptically. “Yes, but Danny… normal worry doesn’t make you get into fights with Dash. You’ve never been violent before.”

“Yeah? Well maybe I should be,” he says callously. “Maybe it’s the only way to keep you all _safe_. I protected Tucker. Why doesn’t anyone else see that?”

Her eyes widen. “That’s… yes, you protected him, but Dash’s arm is broken! You gave him a concussion and he needed stitches! That’s just not like you, Danny, and that scares me!”

He wraps his arms around himself. A part of him knows she’s right. He’s never been like that. He knows what he did was wrong. But… a much, much larger part doesn’t care. That part is extremely pleased to know that he’s put Dash out of commission for so long. “Maybe you just don’t know me as well as you like to think you do,” he says, looking away. “I don’t care what happens to Dash. I only care about you, Mom and Dad, and Sam and Tucker.”

Jazz blinks at him and frowns. “That’s really cold, Danny,” she says softly. “You’re a hero. I thought you were better than that.” She stands finally. “Okay,” she says at last. “I can see we’re not getting anywhere. But please think about what I said, okay? Good night, Danny.”

As she begins walking out, he watches, and he’s overcome with that now-familiar anxiety as she begins to close the door—

“Wait,” he says, getting to his feet, one hand reaching out as though to stop her.

Jazz pauses, peering back through the half-shut doorway.

_Stay here_ , he thinks. He can feel his powers buzzing under his skin again. _How will I be able to watch you if you go—_

“…G-Goodnight,” he stammers out.

Jazz furrows her eyebrows. She stands there for only a brief second before nodding.

The door closes, and she’s gone.

He stares blankly at the door.

His chest _hurts_.

It’s a stabbing pain, originating directly from his ghost core. He’s tired, and he wants to sleep, but _he can’t_. He’s itching to fly to Sam and Tucker’s rooms again, or phase through the wall and check on his sister or his parents… but his mom has already checked on him twice. He doesn’t trust that he won’t get caught sneaking out of his room.

He wonders if it would really matter if he does get caught. It’s not like any of them could stop him…

Frustrated by his conflicting thoughts, he pulls the sheets over his head, trying to ignore the pain. He’s not actually sure of the last time he slept a full night through; he’s always awakened by those stupid nightmares. So he lays there, and waits and waits, the clutches of sleep taking him as he continues worrying over his friends and family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle in for next chapter, folks. Those tags are about to get real relevant real fast. :P


	5. Protect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final reminder that this is not a happy story and Danny is not the hero.

Danny is not surprised when he wakes up and discovers he’s in ghost form.

With consciousness comes the incessant buzzing of his core, the _burning_ need to see his loved ones. He leaps out of bed. Completely silent, he hurriedly phases into Jazz’s room next door. His sister is fast asleep, of course, but he surveys her thoroughly, checking for any potential signs of injury. He finds nothing, although he’s still not completely satisfied. He knows she could still be attacked at any moment. It’s just… _not safe_ here.

An idea strikes him. He dives through the floor and into the lab. He approaches the console and quickly finds the button to activate the ghost shield. He immediately presses it, and he hears the faint hum as the machine whirs to life and covers the house in an anti-ghost dome. He sighs in relief and grins. This was perfect! Now no ghost would be able to get in.

But, wait… he turns and looks critically at the Ghost Portal, hand on his chin. If a ghost came through the portal, they would still be able to get inside. There was a lock on it, so it was very unlikely, but some powerful ghosts could still get through, even when the portal doors were closed.

Or, worse… what if they were like Wulf, and they could just tear a portal inside his house? He shudders. And then his thoughts stray to Sam and Tucker, and his panic rises even _more_. What if a ghost attacked them?! How could he protect them from all the way here! What if the ghost shield is up and he can’t get to them fast enough because he has to transform back into a human to get through the shield and then that brief moment makes him a second too late and by the time he gets there Sam’s been caught by the ghost and she’s injured with her blood on the floor and Tucker’s hurt or dying or worse and everything is coated in gore and—

He smacks the ghost shield button again, and the energy dies down.

So much for that idea.

Danny growls angrily, slamming a fist on the lab console in frustration. His friends and family were just _constantly_ in danger, and it was… infuriating! He couldn’t do anything if they were all across town! How could he watch them all at once?

He takes a deep breath. Step one: make sure his family was safe. They were the closest, so they’d be the easiest to secure. If he can just get them somewhere that he’s _sure_ nothing will happen to them, then he can go check on Sam and Tucker.

He glances around the lab, grabbing as many anti-ghost gadgets as he can get. Portable ghost shields, the Ghost Catcher, Specter Deflectors, various ghost detectors. He’s planning on setting them up all around his parents’ and sister’s rooms to defend them as much as possible. He sets the frequency of one of the detectors to match a pair of Fenton Phones, which he can take with him. That way, if any ghost approaches, he can fly back immediately, just in case the other defenses don’t hold.

“Phantom!” He whirls around at the gasp behind him and sees his mother standing in the doorway. Her shock quickly morphs into anger, and she pulls a ghost ray out of nowhere, aiming it at him. “What are you doing in my house?”

He briefly wonders what the heck she’s doing up so late—and then he glances at the clock on the wall. It’s 7:00 AM. He’d been so preoccupied with getting down here that he hadn’t thought to check if his parents might be awake by now.

“Protecting you,” he answers honestly, even though he knows she won’t believe him. He holds out the weapons. “See?”

“You’re trying to steal more of our inventions!” she snarls. She fires several blasts, but he dodges them easily. She leaps toward a nearby table, where the Fenton Bazooka is sitting. He doesn’t stop her. She charges the weapon and shoots it. He simply raises a shield and batters the hit away. He sees the way her eyes widen at the casual display of power.

“If you can’t hit me, then you can’t hit any threat that comes after you,” he mumbles to himself, ignoring her look of shock. “Maybe I _should_ put up the whole ghost shield after all?”

“What are you _talking_ about?” she says, a tremble in her voice that Danny easily ignores. He doesn’t understand why she’s acting nervous; he’s here, so it’s not like he’s going to let anything get to her.

He nods to himself; he would definitely need some more secure protection for her. “Okay,” he announces. “I’m going to put up the whole ghost shield. But you have to promise me you’ll stay here.”

“I’m not going anywhere you tell me to,” she snarls. She steps toward the weapons table, away from him.

He huffs in exasperation. “I just said you shouldn’t leave. You don’t have to go anywhere.”

“I don’t listen to you.” He spots her hand discreetly reaching behind her. Just as her hand is about to grab hold of the Fenton Grappler, he’s at her side in an instant, clasping her wrist tightly in his hand. She cries out; he realizes he’s probably hurting her, his grip is so painfully tight. But he can’t risk her grabbing that weapon and using it on him.

“I don’t want to do this, Mom,” he says, watching as she hopelessly tries to pry his hand off. She kicks at him, claws at his chest and face and arms, but she’s no match for his ghostly strength. “But if you won’t stay in the house, I’ll have to find another place to keep you.”

Maddie freezes, her struggles temporarily ceasing. “Mom?”

“I mean Maddie.” Keeping his secret seems insignificant compared to the importance of keeping her safe. He looks around the room again. The Ghost Portal is closed, the weapons he’d gathered in a pile separate from the typical mess of his parents’ scattered inventions, and the weapons vault—

He blinks and a grin spreads on his face. The weapons vault!

“I know!” he says brightly, turning to her. Her face is contorted in agony and effort, her other hand now clenched in a tight fist. He clearly reads terror on her face now, but he doesn’t worry about that. He knows she’ll have nothing to fear once he gets her to safety.

He pulls her toward the vault, ignoring as she fruitlessly digs her heels in and spits obscenities at him. He also hears some noises that he suspects might be sobs, but he’s not really sure. He’s really never heard his mom cry before. When they reach the door, instead of opening it he turns them both intangible and pulls her through.

The interior is indeed full of ghost weapons, both finished and unfinished. It’s a fairly cramped space, but it will do. And best of all… he looks at the door. Sure enough, there’s no handle on this side. He never _did_ get around to installing one. No way out.

He beams at her. “This is perfect! You can stay in here, I’ll know exactly where you are, _and_ you have all these weapons to protect yourself if you need them!”

He releases her arm, and she stumbles to the ground with a cry. An unmistakable sob wracks her frame this time. He sighs. He hates that she’s so upset, but he knows this is for the best. He smiles contentedly; with her here, a place he knows she’s _safe_ , he feels _so much better_. The painful stabbing in his core has finally settled down to a pleasant hum.

This is the best idea he’s had all week!

“I’m going to go get Jazz and Dad, okay?” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, no, wait,” Maddie says, turning to him on her knees, horrified. “Please, _please_ stay away from my daughter—”

But he’s already gone through the ceiling, and the rest of her pleas simply echo off the vault walls.

xXx

Going to school the next day is very awkward for Tucker.

He and Sam had hardly spoken about the event from the day before. Neither of them wants to acknowledge it. Every time that Tucker’s gaze fell upon Danny’s empty seat beside him, he feels haunted. By the flash of anger on Sam’s face, however, it seems that she is still angry.

Tucker isn’t mad. Just… confused. And worried. His friend had always wanted to fight back against Dash, but... never like _that._ Danny’s never had any sort of proclivity for violence, probably has never even tried to hit another student in all of the years Tucker had known him (which was a _lot_ of years). He’d been bullied for Dash for a long time, and Danny had never done anything physical about it—even when he’d gotten _ghost powers_.

And now, all of a sudden, over the past week it seemed like his friend was becoming a different person. First he’d gotten extremely angry at Skulker, and now? What even _was_ that? It had occurred so quickly that Tucker _still_ had trouble sorting out his thoughts about the ordeal.

And Danny didn’t even seem _sorry_ when he saw him next! That scared him the most. Since when could he friend literally _break someone’s arm_ for nothing more than a threat and not even feel slightly bad?

Dash’s friends are outraged. They’d spat threats at Tucker this morning. Sam had mostly scared them off with promises of witchcraft curses or something. Apparently Dash is probably going to be out of football for the rest of the season. Even some teachers, many of whom defend their athletes as the school’s one claim to fame (aside from the best state-of-the-art anti-ghost technology which doesn’t really mean much outside of Amity), are sending him dirty looks. As if it’s _his_ fault his friend abruptly dove off the deep end.

He shivers as he walks into Lancer’s classroom for second period, tugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders. It’s _freezing_ in this room today. He sighs. As if it wasn’t cold enough outside. Only Danny would like temperatures this cold.

Tucker and Sam sit at their desks and pull out their work. As the class gets to work on _Macbeth_ , listening to Lancer droning on and on at the front of the room, Tucker zones out and stares through the window to the field outside. Ever so often, a chilly breeze passes over him. He rubs his arms to try and ward off goosebumps.

At first he can’t figure out why the cold seems to come and go; he glances around for a nearby vent, but there are none by his desk. But when he looks over at Sam and notices her shuddering as well, it suddenly clicks.

He practically leaps out of his seat. “Mr. Lancer! I, uh, feel really sick! Can Sam take me to the nurse?”

The teacher pauses mid-sentence to regard Tucker with disdain. “I’m certain you’re perfectly fine finding it on your own, Mr. Foley.”

Sam, despite sending him a weird look, seems to catch on that he’s planning something. “No, no, uh, sometimes Tucker gets a little lost when he gets sick like this. It, um, affects his vision?”

Lancer glances between the two of them and then rolls his eyes. “Seems you’re getting excuses from Mr. Fenton,” he mutters. “Even when he’s _not_ here somehow I _still_ have to deal with this…” He waves his hand dismissively with a heavy sigh. “Fine, fine. Go. Just stop disturbing my class.”

When they get out in the hallway, Sam crosses her arms. “Okay,” she says, “spill. We both know you can’t come within ten feet of the nurse’s office without freaking out. So what’s the real reason you wanted me out here?”

“There’s a ghost in the classroom,” Tucker blurts out.

Sam blinks. Clearly she had not expected that. “Why do you think _that_?”

“It keeps getting cold!”

She raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, maybe because it’s _winter_?”

He glares at her. “No, because there’s a _ghost_. And look, I’ll prove it!” He withdraws his PDA from his pocket and quickly pulls open the ghost detecting app that he’d installed with the help of Fenton tech. Sure enough, a green dot blinks on the screen, almost directly behind them.

Tucker spins around, pointing the PDA at the invisible ghost triumphantly. “Show yourself! Just because Danny’s not here doesn’t mean we won’t kick your butt!”

Sure enough, a form fades into existence in front of them, and the two friends tense, prepared for a fight. But as the invisibility disappears, instead of a dangerous foe, a familiar figure wearing black and white appears, hands held out in a gesture of peace and an embarrassed smile on his face. “Uh, sorry, guys,” says Danny. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Tucker relaxes at the sight of his friend. But then he glances at Sam, and her expression is _murderous_.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she yells, stepping up to Danny and shoving him. The ghost stumbles mid-air, eyes wide in shock. “You’re grounded. Hell, you’re suspended! Just because you’re in ghost form doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be here!”

The ghost boy looks hurt at that. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Yeah? Well you thought wrong,” Sam snarls. “You’re an idiot, coming here like this. What you did yesterday was wrong and you should be accepting your punishment just like every other normal teenager would. Ghost powers don’t give you a free pass.”

“U-Um, well, I’m sure Danny’s only here because he had to fight a ghost,” Tucker interjects nervously. He feels incredibly awkward; it’s not often that Sam and Danny fight. Usually Danny’s the mediator between him and Sam. Tucker’s no good at this, but he feels like he has to do something. “I mean, he can’t just stay at home if a ghost is attacking. Right, Danny?”

Danny crosses his arms, pouting. “I was just coming to check on you,” he says, a note of indignation in his voice. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Am I not allowed to check on my friends?”

“Not. When. You’re. _Suspended_.” Sam punctuates each word with a jab at Danny’s chest. He finally floats back out of her range.

Danny scowls, expression abnormally dark. “You don’t understand,” he says. “You never seem to understand.” He lands on the ground and paces, turning temporarily away from them. When he looks back, his face has instead morphed to a completely different one, a smile on his face that is once again _far_ too cheerful for this situation. It weirds Tucker out how quickly his mood seemed to change. “Actually,” Danny says, “I have to tell you something! See, I came after you because there’s a ghost at my house attacking my parents!”

Something is wrong with that statement. Tucker knows it. Just the way that Danny said it seems off. But he’s so overwhelmed that all he can stammer out is, “Wh-What?”

Danny nods determinedly. “Yeah. I need you guys’ help to take out the ghost at my house. Can you come with me?”

“I’m sorry. You need us, two teenagers, to help you take out a ghost at your _professional ghost hunting parents’ lab_?” Sam says doubtfully. Tucker silently agrees with her. Besides, Danny’s acting _very_ strange.

“Yes,” Danny insists. “They’re, uh, captured. And I can’t get them out on my own.”

Tucker looks at Sam. She looks incredibly suspicious. “What do you think?” Tucker asks her.

“I’m still mad at you,” Sam says, directing her comment to the ghost in front of her instead of Tucker. “And I think you’re hiding something. But… yes, I guess we can help you. I mean, it means we get out of Lancer’s class, so I’m not complaining.”

“Great!” He beams at her, and he takes to the air once again. “Let’s go!”

xXx

Fenton Works is silent when they arrive. Sam frowns at Jazz’s car, which is parked in the front of their driveway. “Did Jazz not drive to school today?” she asks.

Danny glances at it as he heads over to the front door. “Oh, uh, no, she… she was captured by the ghost this morning.”

“This has been happening since this _morning_?” Tucker says in alarm.

“Yeah,” Danny says, though he seems unconcerned. He holds the door open for them. “It’s no big deal though. You guys can help me.”

Tucker is slightly disturbed by his friend’s lack of worry, but he enters the house anyway, Sam close behind him. Danny leads them down into the lab.

“Okay, Danny,” Sam says when they make it downstairs. “Where’s the ghost?”

And predictably, it’s at that exact moment when Tucker’s ghost detector beeps, signaling a new spectral presence, and Danny’s ghost sense goes off.

“I AM THE BOX GHO—”

The intruder is slammed into the wall at inhuman speed and his signature cry is abruptly turned into an _oof_ of pain as he hits the hard surface. Danny is on the other side of the room, pinning the blue ghost that had appeared with his back to Sam and Tucker.

The Box Ghost looks nervous. “I-I, um… am here to destroy you… w-with… uh…”

“You will _not touch them_.”

Tucker pales at the sounds of Danny’s snarl. His voice is almost inhuman, a low growl to it that shoots goosebumps all over his body. It’s probably bordering on a Ghostly Wail if it was a tad louder. The Box Ghost is obviously having the same thoughts if his wide eyes are any indication.

“H-Hey, Danny, it’s just the Box Ghost… We’ll suck him up in the thermos and call it a day, okay?”

The ghost boy whirls around to face Tucker, still clutching his prey in one hand, and Tucker’s breath catches in his throat. Danny’s glowing brighter than he ever has before, frost creeping over his body and his eyes so bright that he can hardly even see the pupils.

Tucker never thought he’d fear his best friend, but here they were.

But then his gaze softens as he looks at Tucker, and he says, in a matter-of-fact tone that is more terrifying than reassuring, “I’m just making sure you’re safe, Tucker.”

Then he turns around, sticks his hand inside of the Box Ghost, and releases a blast.

The energy _explodes_ from within the Box Ghost. It expands inside of him, and Tucker watches helpless as the ghost’s body is consumed by the glow. His body expands and then bursts, macabre spurts of ectoplasm suddenly flung across the room as his body destabilizes. Soon everything—the walls, the floors, the ghost hunting equipment, Sam and Tucker and Danny—are all drenched in the glowing green substance. The room is filled with the acrid scent of ectoplasm. Tucker hears Sam cry out in horror.

Danny turns to face them again, a smile on his face that is completely at odds with the gore that is now covering his body. Tucker takes a step back from the grisly sight. He hears Sam’s breath hitch next to him.

“There,” he says happily. “I saved you.”

“Y-You…” Sam can’t seem to get the words out. Tucker, too, is frozen in horror, uncomprehending. Finally, Sam breaks down into sobs instead.

A flicker of remorse crosses Danny’s face. “I’m sorry,” he says, floating a bit closer. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Tucker takes another step back and chokes down bile. Danny sounds so much like himself there, genuinely try to comfort Sam as though he hadn’t just… just…

The normalcy of the situation, though, despite what his voice might suggest, is completely ruined by the ectoplasm staining his hair, clothes, and face. The squelching of ectoplasm beneath his boots, the sound of it dripping off the walls. He doesn’t even seem to notice it.

“How _could you_ ,” Sam shrieks. Danny blinks in surprise. “How could you do that and act like _nothing happened_!”

Danny frowns. “It was just the Box Ghost,” he says.

“You… you _destroyed_ him,” Tucker manages.

Danny throws his hand in the air in frustration. A few splatters of ectoplasm are flung into the air with the motion, and Tucker has to bring a hand to his mouth to fight down another wave of nausea. “Yeah, because you were in danger!” Danny says angrily. “He’s… he’s a ghost! So he was probably going to hurt you! That’s what he does! I just made sure that you were going to be safe.”

“I-I just don’t understand,” Tucker says. “You brought us here… to help you with the Box Ghost?”

There’s a pause.

And then Danny laughs. The sound is unusually chilling, goes on for just a little bit too long. It’s way too out of place among the carnage in the room. “Oh, no,” he says, chuckling. “There wasn’t actually a ghost. I lied.”

Tucker blinks.

“What—”

Next thing he knows, Danny has grabbed him and turned him intangible. Tucker chokes—he can’t breathe while intangible—but is tossed through the locked door to the weapons vault. Another figure stumbles into him shortly after, signaling the arrival of Sam.

“Danny!” she shouts angrily, turning around and pounding on the door to the vault. “What the hell are you doing? Let us out!”

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Danny’s voice echoes from beyond the door. “I’ll be back soon! Just sit tight!”

“DANNY!”

“Sam? Tucker?”

The pair turn at the voice. To their surprise, they find Jack, Maddie, and Jazz Fenton sitting in the corner of the room, armed with a plethora of weapons. Maddie is still aiming at them, suspicion and fear in her eyes, but Jack has lowered the bazooka in his hands and Jazz just looks upset. “Did he get you too?” Jack says.

“A-Are you telling me Danny put all of you in here as well?” Tucker stammers out. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“Because he’s a ghost,” Maddie snarls vehemently, almost startling Tucker with the venom in her tone. “Why else?”

Sam and Tucker blink at her and then look back at Jazz. She shakes her head. “Don’t look at me like that! I… I couldn’t exactly _explain_ things to her!”

“Why? Do you know something about this?” Jack asks.

The trio all avoid his accusing gaze.

“I think I know what’s going on,” Maddie declares, her voice only slightly shaking.

Tucker raises an eyebrow. “Uh… you do?”

“Yes.” She finally lowers her gun and turns her pleading gaze to them. “Sam, Tucker… where’s Danny?”

Tucker flinches, and he sees Sam react with several emotions flitting across her face. Neither of them answer.

“That ghost… he’s obsessed with my boy, isn’t he? That’s why he brought us all here,” Maddie says. “That’s why Danny isn’t here. He’s being kept somewhere, or maybe… maybe he’s even…” She can’t seem to force out the last words.

“No, Mrs. F… I mean, that’s not…” Tucker isn’t really sure what to say.

Because really… her theory was far less horrifying than the truth.

A truth that is slowly catching up to Tucker. His best friend put him in here. His best friend lied to him, _exploded_ another ghost, and then threw him in an inescapable vault with several others.

Tucker begins to shake.

He leans back against the wall, his body violently trembling as he sinks to the ground, burying his face in his knees.

Sam approaches him and kneels, clearly intending to comfort him, but she doesn’t get the chance. Right then, a figure phases straight in through the wall.

Danny looks slightly better than he had out in the lab. The ectoplasm is mostly gone, or at least it isn’t dripping off of him anymore, though there are still some green stains here and there. He’s still glowing much brighter than he normally should, and the smile on his face is still terrifyingly out of place.

“I got you some blankets,” he announces, and he tosses them said items. A pillow smacks Sam in the face and she violently shoves it out of the way.

“Okay, now you’re going to start giving us some answers,” she begins savagely. “You—”

A blast is suddenly shot from the Fentons’ corner of the room, which Danny floats out of the way of. The blast hits the ceiling with a crash, but the Fentons’ lab is specially defended against ghostly attacks and weapons so it does minimal damage. Danny turns toward them and finds his mother glaring, smoking ecto-gun in hand. “Hey!” he shouts, annoyed. “I told you not to use those in here! What if you set off the other weapons?”

“I’d rather take my chances,” she says callously, and the weapon whines as it charges up again. She only barely gets off another shot, but it goes wildly off course as Danny flies over to her and yanks it out of her hand. With an intense scowl, Danny snaps the gun in half, crushing it and causing the ectoplasm that powered it to leak out.

Tucker’s stomach reminds him of how similar that looks to the Box Ghost’s innards, dripping off his friend’s glove.

“I let you have the weapons to protect yourself from enemy ghosts,” Danny says, his tone almost scolding. “Not to hit me with them! If you’re not going to use them safely I’ll have to take them away.”

“Just… just get this _over with_ , you monster,” Maddie seethes. “Stop keeping us here and do whatever you’re planning. I’ve had enough of these games!

“I _told_ you,” Danny says impatiently, “I’m not going to do anything. I’ve explained this already.” He glances at Tucker. “But I guess I can explain again, for Sam and Tucker. I’m just keeping you here so I know you’re safe. The ghost shield up so you shouldn’t have to deal with any ghosts. And I’ll always be in here or outside to keep watch.” He sighs. “I don’t get it. You guys finally don’t have to worry about ghosts anymore. Why are you so upset?”

“Because we don’t just want to be safe, Danny,” Jazz whispers. “You have to let us go free. We have our lives to get back to.”

He stares at her, his expression blank and uncomprehending. After a moment he barks out an empty laugh. “Yeah. No. If you think I’m ever letting you leave my sight again, you’re crazy. Your so-called life put you in way too much danger. You’ll be happier here. With me.” He offers another confident grin and then floats back toward the door. “Anyway, I’m gonna go check on the ghost shield. Be right back!”

Phantom disappears through the wall once again, and Maddie collapses against her husband. “Jack,” she whispers. “Jack, what are we going to do? Our weapons are useless, and our son…”

Jack is uncharacteristically grim as he holds Maddie close. He too, however, seems to be completely out of ideas.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Jazz says, trying to sound hopeful. “Phantom’s a good ghost. He’s never hurt anyone before.” She lets out a nervous, shaky smile. “I’m… I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See y'all next week for the final chapter. :)


	6. Sleep

They remain in the weapons vault, separated from the world, for over a week.

Or at least, that’s what Jazz thinks. It’s hard to tell without so much as a window to see the outside world. Their only concept of time is whenever Danny brings them meals.

Danny, meanwhile, seems completely unaffected by the amount of time. If anything, he’s been painfully upbeat whenever they see him. Jazz hasn’t seen him eat or sleep once. She wonders if that’s because he’s been in ghost form the whole time and he genuinely doesn’t have to, or if he might be slowly killing himself by ignoring human needs. If he died, would they be trapped in here forever, slowly starving to death?

At one point early last week they had heard a commotion outside the vault. The walls and door were very thick, so it was difficult to tell specifics, but they had heard shouting, which had devolved into sharp gunshots and terrified screams that still sent chills up her spine at the mere memory. When Danny returned later, he’d been very vague about what had happened, despite their queries. He had, however, mentioned driving away some intruders.

Jazz is not a fool. No ghost could get through the ghost shield, and the screams she’d heard were distinctly human. She wondered if they would send anyone else—if they even realized what had happened. If any of those people had been able to escape to tell the tale.

Maddie and Jack had developed several strategies to try and drive off Phantom and free them, but nothing had worked thus far. Even with all their skills, using only the scraps of weapons available in the vault with no power tools was proving fruitless. The door was reinforced against ecto-energy, which was the only power they had to work with from their ghost hunting weapons. The closest they’d come was when Jack managed to create a gun that shot mini-ghost portals, much like the Fenton Bazooka—but so far it had not been helpful, since they realized they’d have no way to get food if they sent Phantom away, and they hadn’t yet been able to make the portals big enough for humans to fit inside. Not that escaping into the Ghost Zone really seemed like the ideal solution, anyway.

Tucker and Sam had taken a different approach, instead trying to talk to Danny whenever he arrived. Tucker begged to be released, and Sam… well, she mostly spouts obscenities and demands he stop being an idiot. But nothing seemed to get through to him; Danny steadfastly insisted on keeping them here.

Jazz can feel herself going stir crazy. Her mind keeps returning to psychology papers she’d read about isolation and its effects. She passes the time by making a mental checklist of symptoms, observing them in herself and fellow prisoners.

“Jack,” Maddie says, growling. “I _told_ you, the ecto-converter has to go in _last_! If we want something that doesn’t use ecto-energy we have to make it out of normal materials first!”

 _Irritability_ , Jazz notes.

“S-Sorry, Mads,” Jack replies, hastily unhinging the device he’d just inserted. “I forgot. Just thought that maybe the converter could give it some extra power, right?”

 _Lack of confidence_ , she thinks. _Difficulty remembering things._

“Can you just shut up already,” Sam grumbles from where she is laying on the other side of the room, laying on the ground, facing the wall so that her back is to all of them. “I just want to sleep.”

 _Insomnia_.

“It doesn’t even matter,” Tucker mumbles. “We’re never getting out anyway.”

_Depression and hopelessness._

“You can’t _say_ that,” Maddie says, her tone tinged with desperation. “We have to keep trying. If you give up, we let the ghost win.”

Even after all this time, they still hadn’t been able to explain that Phantom really was her son. Jazz allows herself to entertain that thought. Maybe if they knew that Phantom was half-human, her parents could come up with a new idea on how to fight him. Or fix him. She wasn’t sure which anymore. Her mother kept insisting that this was some kind of horrible ghost obsession thing, and unless they destroyed the source of the obsession it wasn’t going to stop. But how could they do that when _they_ were the obsession?

Unless they were to do something to themselves…

 _Thoughts of self harm_ , Jazz thinks darkly. _Great. Add that to the list…_

Maddie clicks the final component into the gun that her parents are working on. She aims it at the door. “Jazz, honey,” she says, “move out of the way. I’m going to test this one.”

Jazz obeys, scooting over to the side so she is firmly out of the way of the door. Her mother fires up the gun with a whine and then pushes the trigger. It releases a mechanical clunk that makes Jazz wince at the unflattering sound, but with a short _bang_ the gun fires off its shot.

Instead of energy, a physical, makeshift bullet is fired, made from scraps of metal that the Fentons were able to collect and weld together with the heat of another ecto-gun. Jazz hadn’t listened for most of the explanation, but Jack had gone on a long rant about how they’d created a gunpowder substitute out of the components in ectoplasm and chemicals in the Fenton Foamer.

The bullet strikes the door with a resounding clang, but it bounces off and ricochets back into the vault. With a yelp, Jazz, Maddie, and Jack dive for cover, and it narrowly misses Jack’s head. The bullet clatters to a stop on the floor.

As Jazz tentatively peeks out from where she had been hiding in the corner, she hears her mother gasp.

“Look!” she says excitedly, pointing to the door. Sure enough, a small but clear dent is visible. “We did it! It’s finally something that can damage the door! We—”

And then Phantom flies in through the doorway.

“What was that?” he says, his hands already forming ecto-blasts. He glares around the room, looking prepared to fight. “Is everyone okay?”

His gaze lands on Sam, who has rolled over reluctantly, Tucker, who is sitting by himself against the wall, and the three Fentons, all of whom are staring wide-eyed in the direction of the door behind him. He blinks, and then turns around, spotting the dented door.

He slowly faces them again.

“Who did this?” he asks, voice deceptively soft.

Despite her best attempts, Jazz’s eyes are instantly drawn to the gun, still in her mom’s hands.

Danny approaches furiously, grabbing the gun and tossing it aside with a clatter.

“I told you to _stop making those things_ ,” he snarls, the air around him crackling with energy. Knowing that his obsession was _protecting them_ didn’t help the sudden stab of fear Jazz feels.

Her eyes flit around the room, as though she’s looking for something, _anything_ that can help her. They land on the gun.

She’s struck by a crazy idea.

She dives for the gun and holds it up to her own head, hand on the trigger. “Danny,” she calls.

He turns toward her, eyes still burning—and freezes upon seeing the loaded gun at her head.

“You have to let us out of here. If you don’t, I’ll pull the trigger.”

She sees several emotions flash across his face. “No,” he says flatly. “You wouldn’t. You can’t.”

“I… I will,” Jazz affirms. She’s impressed that her voice remains calm and steady, because her hand sure isn’t. It’s shaking wildly.

She… really hopes he doesn’t call her bluff.

There’s a tense silence as everyone in the vault watches the two siblings who are staring each other down. Danny is clearly trying to determine how serious Jazz is. She tries to communicate with her eyes that she is _completely_ serious.

He floats back. “Okay,” he says at length, hands held up in front of him. “Okay. Right. I’ll… I’ll let you go. Just, don’t…. don’t do that.”

She doesn’t believe him. He’s giving up way too easily. “Fine,” she says suspiciously. Her hand doesn’t move. “Open the door, then.”

Danny nods.

Then he disappears.

Jazz hesitates. It takes only a second, a brief moment where she wonders why he suddenly vanished—

Then she’s _cold_. She feels _wrong_ as her body is filled with a pervasive chill, numbing her body from the inside out. She feels light, weightless, like her limbs no longer exist. She opens her mouth to gasp, but… she can’t. She can’t speak. She can’t scream. She can’t _breathe_ —

“Sorry, Jazz,” she says. Except she _didn’t_ say that. Her mouth moved, she heard her voice… but she didn’t mean to do any of it. A jolt of horror rushes through her. “I’m not going to let you do that.”

Her eyes move without her consent, scanning the rest of the room. Her panic mounts with no outlet. She can’t squirm, she can’t shudder, she can’t cry out—she’s just forced to watch as her body moves on its own, like she’s a limp marionette.

The gun is lowered, and she holds it in front of her face, clearly visible to herself and everyone else in the room. Her parents watch with wide eyes. Tucker and Sam stand by helplessly.

Her fingers burn with a cold fire. Before her eyes, the gun begins to melt. The molten metal seeps over her hands, searing without leaving a mark. It drips to the ground until it is nothing more than a glowing puddle.

“I didn’t want to do this,” her voice continues as she takes a step toward her parents. They step back, and Jazz’s heart clenches in guilt, but her body doesn’t stop. “But I’m going to have to take the weapons away. I _know_ you’ve been trying to use them to escape, and I allowed it… but now that you’ve shown it could actually hurt you, I can’t let this go on any longer.”

Every weapon in the vault slowly begins to glow an eerie green. They explode brilliantly, making everyone duck for cover once again. Jazz hates that her body disobeys her instinctual need to duck to avoid the flying pieces of shrapnel. She’s forced to watch it, eyes wide open. None of the pieces come anywhere near her.

In fact, the pieces somehow manage to miss everyone in the room. The floor is now littered with scraps of metal, leaking ectoplasmic power sources, and shards of glass.

“I hope,” her voice says darkly, “that you will learn from this. Stop trying to leave.”

And suddenly, she feels heavy again.

Her legs betray her. She collapses, completely forgetting how to control her own body’s weight. She sucks in lungfuls of air like she’d forgotten how to breathe, sputtering and choking on nothing.

By the time she looks back up, Danny is gone.

xXx

Danny’s ghost sense goes off.

Still stirring with fury at what had just occurred with Jazz, he finds himself eager to let out his aggression on a trespasser. He walks across the room, using some levitation to glide over the bodies of Guys in White agents littered around. He pays little attention to them. The corpses have been here for a while, and it helps intimidate them whenever the GIW try to send more agents to rescue the Fentons. For now they’ve given up. They might come back with reinforcements later, he knows, but he feels confident he can handle them.

He reaches the edges of the ghost shield, right at the entrance to the lab, and stalks angrily in front of it, waiting to see if the nearby ghost dares to show itself.

And it does. A familiar starry ghost fades into view directly outside the shield, standing tall and unperturbed.

“Nocturn,” Danny growls. He brandishes a ball of energy threateningly. “I _knew_ you were planning something! I’m not letting you hurt them!”

“I haven’t come for them, ghost child,” Nocturn says smoothly. “I have no interest in your human pets. I’ve come to help _you_.”

“You can help,” Danny hisses, “by _going away._ ”

“Are you sure?” the ghost says casually. “I heard there was some kind of commotion in there. Humans don’t like to be kept locked up for extended periods of time. I’m sure they’ve tried to leave.”

“They just don’t understand now,” he says, shaking his head. “But they _will_ understand. They just need time. I can wait.”

“What if,” Nocturn says, a smug smile on his face, “I told you I could stop their escape attempts permanently? If I could ensure they would remain with you, protected, forever?”

Danny stiffens, eyes widening. He doesn’t lower his guard, but he does frown curiously. “Why would you do that? You hate me.”

“I think we could come to a mutual agreement.” Nocturn steps closer to the shield, almost touching the shimmering green barrier. “I can use my powers to put everyone in the town to sleep, including those under your protection. Your humans will be unharmed and remain in your care. The others in this town, however? I will use them to gain my own energy.”

Danny frowns. “You mean… you’ll feed off of the town? I can’t let you do that,” he says, although he can hear the uncertainty in the waver of his own voice.

“Will you be able to leave here to stop me?” Nocturn counters.

Danny grimaces in response. “But… they’ll be asleep. Forever. I… I can’t do that to my family and friends.”

“Think about it,” Nocturn urges. “Asleep, they will dream of happy times. They can live out a perfect future in their dreams, all while you watch over them in the real world, keeping them safe. You will no longer need to worry about them disappearing when you are not there or harming themselves. They know no pain, or sadness, or despair. What are a few nameless humans sacrificed to me in light of your loved ones’ eternal protection?”

Danny _does_ think about it, as much as he doesn’t want to. He wouldn’t have to worry about his parents blowing something up with another harebrained invention, or Sam screaming at him every time he enters the room, or Tucker’s hopeless expression, or… or Jazz trying to _hurt herself_.

“But… you wouldn’t feed from _them_ , right?” He feels a surge of possessive fury at the thought. “They wouldn’t be hurt or anything?”

“No,” Nocturn assures. “I’ll have plenty of humans of my own in the town. I’m happy to let you have your friends if you’ll stay out of my plans.” He inclines his head. “From one ghost fulfilling their obsession to another.”

He considers the offer. If he did agree… at least they would be safe…

Danny takes a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some final shout outs:
> 
> Thanks again to [Fordtato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fordtato/pseuds/Fordtato) for her wonderful betaing skills. I would be nothing without her.  
> Thanks to [Ozone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniura/pseuds/aniura) and [Hazama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazama_d20/pseuds/Hazama_d20) for arranging the challenge and their constant support.  
> Thanks to [BriarLovesU](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLovesU/pseuds/BriarLovesU) for their excellent story that finally convinced me I could write this. Please read [To Protect Loved Ones](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418622/chapters/64360549) if you enjoyed this. Also consider reading [Idée Fixe](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11673190/1/Id%C3%A9e-Fixe) by [LunagaleMaster](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6655970/LunagaleMaster), which was another fic that took this concept but didn't get very far. Without these two, this story would have Danny with an Amity Park obsession, which doesn't make for nearly as interesting interpersonal drama. :P  
> Finally, thank you to all of the commenters/kudos/bookmarks. You're all amazing and I love you! <3


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